Sonic Insanity
Hi, guys! Some brief updates:
First of all, one of my fans Alexander Pyro will soon commence the construction of a Sonic Insanity web comic. I hope to collaborate with him to whatever degree I can. Keep your eyes peeled for announcements on that. I hope you show him as much support as you've shown me, because adapting even part of this leviathan of a fic will be some work.
I have no current plans for a Sonic Insanity 2, but you can expect at least one update of this fic before the end of the year, not counting this one. Alexander's project has inspired me a little.
I'm doing the NaNoWriMo this year ( as well as my typical school workload, so I may not have lots of time, but I'll try to write another chapter soon. I guess that basically just goes along with B. Never mind.
The content of the last chapter will not be expanded on. I basically just posted that in lieu of anything else to say. HOWEVER! More traditional Sonic Insanity will be coming up in any subsequent chapters.
And now for a little something to tide you over!
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Shadow was sitting at the computer, writing an article to submit to his favorite publication, Sonic Is A Prison Bitch. "For decades historians, archaeologists and cool people have wondered what the truth is behind Sonic's loserdom. Was his father a hacky-sack or a lobster? Was his mother a landmine or a stork? Is his brain really thirty percent crayon wax? The debates have raged since the beginning of time. Using a keenly analytical critical lens and a genius penchant for tearing Sonic a new one, this investigative reporter delves deep into the psyche of America's least wanted." He flexed his fingers and smiled. "Wow, this investigatory journalism is really something! Time to submit it to the editor and see if I can get an advance on the rest! Oh wait… I'mthe editor, publisher, writer and distributor of Sonic Is A Prison Bitch magazine!" He cackled joyously. "I will have to hire an artist for the new comic strip, though," he mused. "I wonder if there are any applicants for the position?"
He glanced around the "office" as if expecting to see a line of applicants. "Nobody? I guess I'll have to be it!" Smiling broadly, he began a comical illustration of Sonic trying to go out on a date with the Statue of Liberty.
"SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAADOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!"
The scream of murderous anguish resounded throughout the house, shaking the walls until it crashed against Shadow's closed door. Grinning broadly, Shadow put the computer to sleep and said in his most sickly-sweet voice, "Oh yeeeeeeeees?"
"Get DOWN here!"
Which of his schemes had managed to send Sonic into frenzy this time? Replacing his bedroom door with a slab of frozen clam chowder? The gunpowder in the gasoline tank, perhaps? Or had it been tunneling a 30-foot shaft under the entrance to Sonic's room? Shadow chortled happily to himself as he flounced down the stairs into the kitchen.
Sonic was lividly beside himself. "I DEMAND TO KNOW THE MEANING OF THIS!"
"Of what?" Shadow inquired in an innocent tone, which was given less credibility by the fact that he was on the floor laughing hysterically.
Sonic indicated the newspaper with a shaking hand. Shadow got off the ground, picked it up, examined it and laughed even harder.
The Benedict Arnold Fan Club is having its 100th annual meeting! Join us at Sonic's house for a fun evening of double-crossing shenanigans. Key motivational speaker Sonic the Hedgehog will be attending to tell you how you can betray everybody you know. Turncoats and traitors wanted! Bring all your backstabbing friends to this gala event!
"I was in no way responsible," objected Shadow while shrieking with laughter.
"And what about THIS!" roared Sonic, indicating the singles section.
"What?"
Single blue hedgehog male looking for married blue hedgehog female, preferably his own mother, for a night of staring in opposite directions punctuated by sessions of intense "snogging." Must be willing to dress up like Nikita Khrushchev and role-play as a Whack-A-Mole machine. Big noses a must!
"I've had enough of this!" screeched Sonic. "This kind of insubordination is hurting my reputation about town!"
"You're one to talk about insubordination… Benedict Arnold…"
Sonic grabbed Shadow by the ankles and swung him into the wall with bone-crushing force. Shadow, laughing and sobbing in equal measure, emerged from the debris with numerous injuries, giggling like a little girl.
Meanwhile, Knuckles was busy downloading as many illegal movies, songs and drugs onto Sonic's computer as he could. "Ah, the sweet scent of e-crack! I see Lime Wire's slacking again! They haven't put up the last 48 Saw sequels!" His iPod beeped as Avenged Sevenfold's new album finished downloading. "Ah, my favorite rap group's CD, all mine to listen to!"
"Um, I wouldn't classify Avenged Sevenfold as rap," said Tails, walking in with spiky dyed hair, guy-liner and big leather boots. It was pathetically obvious that he wanted to get attention. Knuckles did a double take before completely ignoring this fashion catastrophe.
"What do you mean, ay-seven-x isn't rap?" blustered Knuckles. "Their vocalist either screams or sings, their music isn't sampled, they use real drums, and they don't sing about personal material gain! They're as rap as it gets!"
"Notice anything different about me?" hissed Tails through gritted teeth.
"You'd like me to, wouldn't you?" Knuckles blared, jumping out of his seat. He was shaking with rage and disgust, for no particular reason. "You wish that I had died- and that Boromir had lived!"
"Um… anyway," said Tails, looking queasy, "you know, actually, there isn't anything different about me after all."
"EXACTLY! You're all the same!" shrieked Knuckles as Tails fled. "You're all identical, you conformists! You know who else conforms to the system? COMMUNIIIIIIIIIIIIIISTS!" he howled at the ceiling, which caved in on top of him with a tremendous crash of plaster and rubble.
"This house is falling apart!" Sonic bellowed from downstairs. "First I intentionally throw a heavy object as hard into a wall as I can, and then the ceiling collapses! You can't trust modern architecture! Where's that damn echidna? KNUCKLES! KNUUUUUUUUUCKLES!"
"Strong ceilings are for Communists!" sneered Knuckles from his dirt-encrusted prison, buried underneath several tons of roofing material. "They build their ceilings as tough as they can so that Big Brother can't push them down and make them all equal! Here in America we don't care about equality! Only the strong survive here!"
"Knuckles," said an equally dust-showered Shadow, staggering up the stairs, "how can you possibly call being buried by a collapsing ceiling 'surviving?'"
"What doesn't kill me only makes me stronger!" roared Knuckles. "I am a man! I'm better than that faking hedgehog Sonic at any rate, anyway!"
"At any rate, anyway? That didn't make any sense, anyway," objected Shadow.
"At any rate shut up anyway!" howled Knuckles, bursting free of the collapsed ceiling and shaking his tarnished gloves at the exposed stars. "I will prove myself in battle! Since the dawn of time, those stars have tried to appear lordly… shining their light with such careful indifference! I alone have seen through their pretense and their… their charlatanarianism! I will expose them for the weak and huddled dogs that they are!"
"Knuckles, one can hardly accuse a star of charlatanarianism," said Shadow before realizing whom he was talking to.
"KNUCKLES!" With an earth-shattering crash, Sonic ran into the room and promptly fell through the floor, which crumbled to rubble underneath his flailing feet and sent him hurtling downstairs. With a growl of rage, he stormed back up the stairs and into the room. He stopped just on the precipice of the hole in the floor, stared down at it, and looked to the other side.
Shadow looked at him. Knuckles stared, confused.
Sonic grinned, his eyebrows wiggling. Very deliberately, he extended one foot over the gap, pulling it back just before he overbalanced. He took a few steps back, clearly preparing to jump the gap with a running start.
Shadow blinked.
Sonic smirked.
Knuckles looked confused.
Sonic sped forward toward the hole, ran straight off the edge and fell through the hole without a sound.
Meanwhile, Tails was outside, underneath the smallest rain cloud in existence, which he had invented solely to rain on him whenever it would look more dramatic. His eyeliner streaked and blurred, giving him a forlorn appearance. He intentionally sat down right next to a puddle, just so a car would drive through it and get him wet. No car came. He waited and waited and waited, but there were no cars coming.
He got up, ran through the puddle, and sat down as fast as he could. He completely missed the water.
"I don't get it," he said aloud. "I've done everything I can do. Why won't a car drive through this puddle?"
"Maybe," said a man standing nearby, "because the puddle is on top of the EIFFEL TOWER?"
Tails looked around. The man was quite right.
"Who are you?" he asked the man, who walked with a strange limp.
"There's no time," said the man in a Russian accent. "You must escape. I… will be left behind. There is no choice. Go, and save yourselves. You are young; you still have a life to live, no? I must perish. Somebody must remain to set off the cheesecake bomb. Nobody must escape the field of detonation. None will. Run before it is too late."
Without the slightest regret, Tails threw himself over the edge of the Eiffel Tower and flew away. The man, who of course was the French Man with the Russian Accent, smirked slyly and chomped down on a baguette.
"Imbecile," he thought, as the cheesecake bomb exploded and destroyed him.
Meanwhile again at any rate, Sonic, Shadow and Knuckles were having a very important and meaningful discussion that might determine the fate of their friendship forever. But you wouldn't want to hear about that. Meanwhile again anyway somewhere else, Eggman was scheming again.
"It has to work this time," he muttered under his rancid breath. "It has to. The best offense is a good defense, or something like that. So what if my last forty-eight plans went up in smoke?"
"And one of them in polyester," remarked Metal Sonic, who was chain smoking a stack of printer paper.
Eggman delivered a furious glance to the insolent mechanical hedgehog before continuing. "As I was saying at any rate, my latest plan has the brilliance of simplicity, and the simplicity of brilliance."
"Do you know that they used to call stupid people 'simple?'" asked Metal Sonic.
Eggman ground his teeth. "This plan is ingenious! All I have to do… is not attack at all!"
"What do you mean?" asked Metal Sonic, confused.
"Eventually," smiled Eggman cunningly, "if left to their own plot devices, Sonic and his rainbow of animal friends will do something stupid and kill themselves, leaving me free to oppose them."
"How will you oppose them if they're dead?"
"In that case," remedied Eggman hastily, "it will leave me free to take over the world."
"So what stupid things are they probably doing now?" asked Metal Sonic.
Eggman thought about it. "I don't know, but they'll probably demolish the house any day now. Without me as their common enemy, they'll turn on each other. If anybody survives, I can easily conquer them by themselves."
"Brilliant plan," said Metal Sonic sarcastically, even though he secretly agreed with himself.
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